The Disturbing Night Club
by Nijino Aya
Summary: Oh, dear, what WAS I thinking when I wrote this. I was having a Scott fascination, and I couldn't let this go. Not for weak stomachs. Its not really scary, just, um, disturbing. I suppose that this might have slash in it but there aren't any pairings.


The Disturbing Night Club  
  
by Aya/Mecha  
  
WARNING: Not for weak stomaches. Oh, and don't read if you are homophobic. I wrote this during a Scott fascination, at midnight. Please don't flame me, and I know you will. I already know what you're gonna say, so don't waste your time on me, please? I am never gonna write this sorta thing again. Unless, well, someone ::gasp:: LIKES it. But God forbid. THIS IS A DISTURBING FIC. Attempted sick humor, I really suck at it on my own.  
  
  
  
  
It was Friday night at the Xavier mansion, and everyone was doing something. Logan was getting drunk, Evan was at a game tournament out of town, Rouge was brooding in her room, Kurt was chasing Kitty, Kitty was running from Kurt, Jean was out with Duncan Matthews, and Professor was out on bussiness with Ororo.  
  
Yes, everyone was busy, except for a certain, red-sighted mutant. (Boy is this paragrapgh a cliche...). Scott sat in a chair, trying to think of something to do. He could join Logan and become excessively drunk, but the last time he did that, the bar aquired a new skylight. The boredum was seriously driving him crazy, so he went out for a walk.  
  
He walked for awhile, and suddenly found himself at a strange, lower level bar. He walked in (PLOT HOLE! HE ISN'T EVEN 18 YET!!), only to discover that it was some sort of weird dance club with a barade of young people dancing, with a few strippers on stage.  
  
He walked to a table and sat down. Jeeze, was he bored! Mr. Prep Scott Summers... in a bar! Why I never!  
  
A waitress came to his table to get his order. Or at least he thought it was a waitress. Because when he looked up, his vision was filled with the sight of a very skinny, French maid dress-clad, make-up-wearing Pietro. "WHAT THE-" Scott nearly screeched, Todd-esque.  
  
"SCOTT!!" Pietro gasped, girlyish. "Whatthehellareyougoing here?!?!"  
  
"What the hell are YOU doing here, and dressed like THAT!?!?" Scott gaped at Pietro's extremely skimpy dress.  
  
"I work here!" Pietro quieted down.  
  
"But why are you wearing a dress!? Do they not hire guys? Do they know that you're a guy? And why am I even talking to you!?" Scott poured on.  
  
"Um... Scott you do know that this is a...um.. a g-gay bar...?" Pietro tried his hardest to talk slowly. "I never knew you swang that way..."  
  
"Of course I don't!!," Scott cried in horror, not only at the fact that he was in a gay bar,but that he also though Pietro looked very good in a skimpy dress... "I didn't know that this was that kind of place!"  
  
"Oh, man..." Pietro sighed, sounding... dissapointed?  
  
Scott got up to leave, but due to all the thoughts swirling in his head, and the fact that he is a natural loser and all-around idiot, he landed up at the stripper stage. What a dick.  
  
Scott looked around, trying to find a way out, when he heard a voice behind him.  
  
"Hey, there..." It said seductively, drawing him in with a feathered boa.  
  
Scott turned around a the sound of the voice, only to come face to face with the on-stage, lace-and-leather stripper, the one and only, Lance Alvers. (?!?!?!?!?!) (A/N: Even I am getting scared by this fic...)  
  
"HOLY MOTHER OF MYSTIQUE, BATMAN!!" Lance exclaimed, realizing exactly WHO he was seducing.  
  
"GREAT GODDESS OF GRENOLA!!" Scott paled as he nearly had a heart attack for the second time that night. The first thought into his brain (as small as it may be) was: *Todd had better not also be here!!* Mentally shuddered at that one, then came to realize what exactly happened.  
  
"What are you going here, Slim!?" Lance gasped.  
  
"Da...da..duh... ehhh..." Was all he got out of Scott, who was currently looking a the rather uncomfortable-looking leather...thing... that Lance was wearing.  
  
At that moment, Pietro-Maid was behind Scott to catch him a he fainted. "Well, I know I AM good looking, but really..." Lance demurred.  
  
*******  
  
"Scott?"  
  
"Uhh..."  
  
"Are 'ya OK?"  
  
"Like, I think he's, like, comming to,"  
  
"Vake up, Scott,"  
  
Scott opened his eyes and looked around the room, and saw four figures above him. He focused his eyes to make out the four as being Jean, Rogue, Kitty, and Kurt. "Where am I? What time is it? What happend?"  
  
"We're at home, Scott, it's three a.m., and that is exactly what we want to know," Jean glared at him.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Jean was, like, comming home from her date two hours ago, and, like, she found you laying in a heap by the gates," Kitty imformed him.  
  
"Oh, GOD!" Scott moaned remembering the club. He figured one of those two sick Brotherhood members were kind enough to drop him off in front.  
  
"Vhere exactly vere you?" Kurt asked.  
  
"You don't want to know..." Jean said, wide eyed. She had read his thoughts, and was almost ready to throw up.  
  
*********  
  
The next night:  
  
"Hey Scott," Evan said, passing his friend in the living room.  
  
"Hi."  
  
"Doing anything tonight?"  
  
"No."  
  
"I'm going out, wanna come with?"  
  
"To where?" Scott meeped (is that even a word?)  
  
"Um, just some club. Oh, and with Lance and Pietro,"  
  
Fin.  
  
Scary, ne? Wow! You're still here! You accually READ it! My god... Oh, and do tell me how many times you threw up. The highest puker count wins a prize... a Pietro-Maid plushie!! 


End file.
